


If You Give a Loud a Cookie

by Weavillain



Category: The Loud House (Cartoon)
Genre: Cookies, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Jealousy, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 07:41:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13782909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weavillain/pseuds/Weavillain
Summary: You get an angry, jealous Ronnie Anne Santiago, whom by the looks of things, isn't thrilled with Lincoln getting a Valentine's Day gift from another girl. But Lincoln thinks that there's more to it than that. (Lincoln x Ronnie Anne) (Lori/Clyde Epilogue)





	1. Chapter 1

February the 14th; better known as Valentine's Day.

It was a day that everyone young or old, boy or girl ( _especially_  girl) knew about like the back of their hand. Next to Christmas, News Year's Eve, Halloween, and Thanksgiving, it was the most prolific and well-known holiday on the Gregorian calendar. It was a day that was meant for loved ones to show their appreciation for one another with gifts of gratitude and tokens of tenderness, usually in the form of flowers, candy, or poems.

Whether they were young couples hitting the town while gazing lovingly into each other's eyes or an old married couple reminiscing on their youthful days as newlyweds, Valentine's Day offered a wide variety of experiences that any willing, enthusiastic partaker could find enthralling and enriching.

Lincoln Loud was by no means a willing partaker, enthusiastic or otherwise.

As he arose from his slumber on Valentine's Day morning, he couldn't help but let out a groan at the inevitable events that were sure to follow; his sisters gushing about endlessly about how they would celebrate the saccharine holiday all day long, his classmates buzzing about excitedly as they exchanged gifts with one another, his chocoholic sisters turning the entire house upside down—fighting each other to the death for the last piece of chocolate and somehow dragging Lincoln into the scuffle…

But that wasn't even the worst of it. Every year, for as long as he could remember, Leni would dress him up in her homemade Cupid outfit, all while commenting on how absolutely adorable he looked once he was forced into the humiliating attire. His other sisters, upon spotting him in a diaper and strapped angel wings, would either point and laugh at him or loudly share Leni's sentiments, much to his ever-growing shame.

All in all, there just wasn't a lot that Lincoln could appreciate about Valentine's Day. Oh sure, he understood that it was all in the name of showing your loved ones that you cared about them, and receiving gifts wasn't all that bad, but Lincoln always thought that if one  _really_  cared about their friends, significant others, and family, they'd be going out of their way to express their love  _every_ day; not go through the motions for three hundred sixty-four days of the year and bust out all the big guns on one day in a schmaltzy, sappy, starry-eyed, sugarcoated spectacle.

And besides all that, Lincoln just wasn't into the sap; the sighing, the kissy faces, the stuttering and blushing…it just wasn't him. Just the thought of it made him cringe in revulsion.

Thankfully, his girlfriend, Ronnie Anne Santiago, agreed with his anti-Valentine's Day sentiments wholeheartedly. In fact, only a few days ago, she told him explicitly not to bother getting her anything for Valentine's Day, opting to hit up the arcade after school instead of acting like lovesick puppies like 99.9% of the Royal Woods population was sure to do today.

Before he could get up out of bed, Lincoln winced when he heard ten pairs of animated footsteps booming about outside of his bedroom, followed by high-pitched squealing and giggling.

' _Just great,'_ Lincoln commented sarcastically in his head.  _'I know we're the Loud family and all but just for once, can't they all just act, I dunno, quieter on Valentine's Day for a change?'_

He immediately got his answer as soon as he heard the cacophony come to a grinding halt and a conversation strike up.

"Hey, guys," he could hear Leni ask, "Have any of you seen Lincoln?"

"Nope," he heard Lynn reply. "Why do you ask?"

"I wanted to ask him if he wanted to go with the white Cupid wings or with pink ones this time. I know white is, like, more traditional, plus it matches his hair color, but I wanted to do a little experimenting for once."

"Hmmmm," he picked up Lori mulling thoughtfully, "I'd go with pink. Oh, and to make it match, give him a pink diaper, too."

Lincoln frowned. He swore he heard a snicker at the end of that sentence. Seeing how it was Lori, he knew that his ears weren't playing tricks on him.

"Lori, you're a genius! I can't wait 'til I see him in it! He's gonna look totes adorable!"

With that, the squealing and giggling resumed, much to Lincoln's chagrin.

"More like totes ridiculous," Lincoln grumbled to himself as he slid lethargically out of bed to start the day.

* * *

Lincoln found that school, although swarming with sickeningly gooey sentiment, if the endless stream of hallway and classroom decorations and various PDA's were any indication, was still somewhat of a safe haven. At least at school, no one would try to get him in a diaper and wings, at least without severe provocation on Lincoln's part.

But, there was still one source of mild annoyance that had been laboring his patience all day. Much like everyone else, his best friend, Clyde McBride, was bitten by the love bug and as Lincoln sat across from him at the cafeteria table at lunchtime, listening to his Shakespearean soliloquies about the beauty of his older sister, Lori, for the hundredth time  _this hour_ , he realized that he could only take so much before he'd lose his mind.

Slamming a fist onto the table in an instinctive twitch, Lincoln's sudden outburst snapped Clyde out of his doe-eyed daze.

"Something wrong, Lincoln?" Clyde asked, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

Lincoln sighed. "No, Clyde, please continue droning on about how Lori is an angel with an endless bounty of bodacious brilliance and dazzling delight. I was very interested," he replied, dripping with snark.

Missing the obvious sarcasm, Clyde remained undeterred as he took a sip from his milk carton.

"No thanks. I'd rather show you what I made for Lori for Valentine's Day instead. I put as much effort into it as I know she put into mine."

' _So, none at all then?_ ' Lincoln thought as he shook his head at his friend's admirable but misguided optimism.

"For the last time, Clyde, Lori's not getting you anything for Valentine's Day. I thought you'd get the message after the last three years that she's brushed you off."

"Oh, Lincoln," Clyde remarked condescendingly as he reached across the table to pat Lincoln on the shoulder, "Sweet, innocent, naïve, Lincoln…that's exactly what she  _wants_  you to think. She just didn't want all the hard work, that she's poured into my gift, to be discovered. Why, I bet she's written out the most heartfelt, loving Valentine's Day message ever written, just for me."

"Clyde, I hate to break it to you but the only piece of paper that Lori would ever give you is a restraining order," Lincoln remarked with a chuckle. "Besides, even if she  _was_  into you, I don't think Lori's the type of person who cares much for macaroni art. Remember how well that worked last time? You made her a macaroni bracelet that wouldn't come off her wrist until Lana had to use a power saw to cut through it. It took her months of therapy just to be able to look at another bracelet without fainting on the spot."

Clyde, ever the romantic visionary, only had visions of success on his mind.

"I was but a boy in those days," Clyde said as he reached into his pocket and grabbed his phone, turning it on and fiddling about until he found what he was looking for in his photo gallery.

"Luckily for her, I've upped the ante this year," he proclaimed as he held up the screen closer to Lincoln's face.

Lincoln's jaw nearly dropped at what he saw. There, leaning against Clyde's bed, was a painting of Lori from the neck up. The portrait was something to behold; the level of attention to detail and craftsmanship was something that Lincoln only found in works of art at an art museum.

Still, Lincoln couldn't help but find the dedication a little...uneasy. He could admire devotion but this was taking it a tad too far for his liking.

"Wow. That's both amazing and…" Lincoln bit his tongue before he could say "creepy". "You know what? Never mind. I'm sure Lori will love it."

"I know she will," Clyde stated proudly as he put his phone away. "I spent nearly an entire year putting it together. Hard work like this doesn't just go unappreciated. I'd like to see Santiago top  _that_."

Clyde returned to his lunch, eating a spoonful out of his fruit cup before he spoke to Lincoln again.

"Speaking of Santiago, did you get anything for Ronnie Anne?"

Lincoln shook his head. "Nah, she told me she's not into the whole 'Valentine's Day' scene and told me not to bother getting her anything."

"That so?" Clyde asked. "Heh, guess it makes sense. She doesn't seem like the type who would go crazy for this type of occasion, unlike the rest of the girls here."

As soon as the last word of his sentence was uttered, Clyde looked past Lincoln and spotted a girl with long brown hair approaching them. From the looks of things, she was hiding something behind her back. As she walked over to them, she stopped and looked back behind her shoulder at a group of girls that stood some distance from her, gesticulating for her to keeping moving while giving her thumbs up's.

"Hey, speaking of girls, looks like one's coming our way right now," Clyde noticed but immediately, his eyes widened in terror. "Oh no! What if she wants to give me something for Valentine's Day?! If Lori found out-"

"Trust me, Clyde," Lincoln interrupted as he turned in his seat to look at the girl that Clyde was talking about, "I'm sure Lori won't mind you getting attention from a girl our age."

In a matter of a handful of seconds, the girl stood before them, her shy gaze focusing solely on Lincoln. Rather than look her in the eye, though, Lincoln briefly scanned the girl from top to bottom, trying to get an idea on who she was. Her purple jacket, her lavender dress, her black belt, the heart-shaped clip in her brown hair, her lavender stockings…Lincoln knew he had brief associations with this girl before and her ensemble was familiar but for the life of him, he just couldn't remember her name.

"Um…hi, L-Lincoln," the girl spoke quietly and shyly, prompting Lincoln to snap out of his contemplation and look her in the eye.

The minute he did, however, a raging blush covered her entire face, something Lincoln couldn't understand the reason behind. Rather than dwell on it, Lincoln decided to press on with the conversation this girl clearly wanted to have with him.

"Hey. How's it going?" Lincoln greeted as the girl looked at him expectantly.

He worked his brain into overdrive, trying to quickly get her name right before she caught onto his ignorance and get hurt. Mercifully, what he thought was the answer came to him in a flash.

"It's, uh, Cookie, isn't it?" Lincoln asked and crossed his fingers, hoping that he had hit the mark.

He sighed in relief when her face lit up as she nodded her head enthusiastically.

"Y-yes! Yes! T-thank you for remembering me!" Cookie beamed.

' _Phew. Dodged a bullet on that one. Nice work, brain. I knew I could always count on you.'_

"Uh, anyways, is there anything you want with me?" Lincoln asked.

"Well, a-as you know, t-today is February the 14th, also known as Valentine's D-day," Cookie stuttered, eyes looking about the cafeteria but then, dread filled her to the brim at the realization of her words.

"N-not that y-y-you wouldn't know! I wasn't t-trying to call you stupid or anything! P-please don't hate me!" Cookie begged frantically while having her head bowed.

In a heartbeat, Lincoln shot up to his feet and grabbed Cookie by the shoulders, shaking her lightly until she timidly looked up at him, though, Lincoln noted, her eyes could only meet his briefly before she looked at the floor.

"Cookie, relax. I don't hate you. I just wanna know what you're doing here. That's all."

"Oh," is all Cookie can mumble before she tries to get to the matter at hand.

"S-so anyways, my Mom owns this bakery a-and well…s-she taught me a thing or t-two around the kitchen a-and I was just thinking t-that you deserved s-something nice for Valentine's Day so…"

Cookie paused and took a deep breath before she shoved the object, she had been hiding behind her back the whole time, into Lincoln's chest rougher than she intended.

"I baked these for you!"

At the word "bake", Lincoln looked down at what Cookie had unceremoniously presented to him. Taking it out of Cookie's hands, Lincoln realized that it was a purple basket, one with a pink bow tied at the top of the handle.

His mouth started to water slightly at what was inside of it. There, in a pile, was the tastiest looking assortment of cookies that Lincoln had ever seen in his entire life. Not even the cookies at  _"Pete's Palace of Pastries"_  could compare to these heavenly treats. Even though the cookie pile was covered in plastic wrapping, that couldn't prevent the pleasant scent of Cookie's sweets from wafting into Lincoln's nose.

There was chocolate chip, oatmeal raisin, macadamia nut, sugar cookies, and…no way! Could it be? It was! There was even a cookie with marshmallow bits baked into it!

Before Lincoln could savor the collection of cookies, his grasp on good manners spurred him into gratitude. He looked up at Cookie, who was gazing upon him with an expectant, pleading stare.

"All of this for me? Wow, Cookie, I…I don't know what to say. These must've taken you ages to bake."

"I-It wasn't a problem at all. I promise," Cookie smiled. "Y-you can try one now i-if you want."

Not needing to be told twice, Lincoln dug his hand past the plastic until his fingers gripped that marshmallow cookie that caught his eye. He pulled it out and quickly took a bite…

…and nearly melted into a puddle as the chewy, soft, and gooey texture of the cookie sent his taste buds to the moon and back. If the smell of the cookies was enough to make him swoon, it was a miracle that the taste didn't knock him out cold.

"Mmmmmmmm!" Lincoln moaned as he swallowed down the last bit of treat left in his mouth before shoving the rest of the cookie into his mouth to devour.

"Cookie, these are to die for! Thank you so much!"

Cookie's face brightened like a tomato at the high praise she was getting and told him, "D-don't mention it. I'm r-really happy y-you liked them."

With that, Cookie turned on her heel, skipping away from Lincoln with a pep in her step that Lincoln hadn't bothered to take notice of. Grasping on his cookie basket tightly, Lincoln sat down and faced Clyde…

…only for him to be met by his best friend glaring at him disapprovingly.

"What?"

Clyde simply raised an eyebrow and tapped his foot on the ground expectantly.

" _What?_ "

"Seriously, Lincoln? You don't see the problem here?" Clyde asked irritably.

Clyde looked on as Lincoln pondered the dilemma that he apparently missed out on. He swelled with relief when the answer seemed to hit Lincoln like a speeding Mack Truck.

"Oh wait! Of course! What was I thinking, Clyde?! I'm glad you brought me to my senses!"

"Sure thing, buddy. After all, what are friends fo-"

"What's a cookie without some milk?!"

Clyde facepalmed as Lincoln took his milk carton and opened it up. Then, fishing into the cookie basket, Lincoln pulled out a chocolate chip cookie, preparing to dunk it into his milk. Before he could, Clyde reached over the table and slapped it out of his hand.

"Hey! I was gonna eat that!" Lincoln said.

He soon forgot his annoyance when Clyde grabbed him by the collar and yanked him slightly across the table.

"Forget about the pastries, man! Don't you realize what you've done?!"

"Pssh," remarked an unfazed Lincoln, "you're just jealous that you didn't get any cookies for Valentine's Day."

"No, you cookie craving clod, Ronnie Anne will be  _furious_ when she finds out that you accepted a Valentine's Day gift from another girl! And trust me, I'm not talking 'hanging you off the school's flag pole by your underwear' furious, I'm talking 'punting you into the next century' furious! You cannot, I repeat,  _cannot_  tell her about them!"

Lincoln blinked. Was Clyde serious? That's what had him so freaked out? Apparently, Clyde didn't know Ronnie Anne well enough to understand that he wasn't in any imminent danger from her.

"Clyde, Clyde, Clyde," Lincoln lightly chided as he freed himself from Clyde's lax grip, "didn't I  _just_ tell you that Ronnie Anne doesn't care about Valentine's Day? Who cares if she finds out? Besides, Cookie was clearly trying to be nice to me, and I can't exactly throw away her gift after all the time she spent making it, right?"

"But, Lincoln-"

"In fact," Lincoln interrupted when he saw someone approaching them from behind Clyde, "here comes Ronnie Anne right now. I'll tell her all about the cookies and by the end of it, I'll still be here in this century,  _un-punted_. Just you wait, Clyde."

Before another word of protest could be said on his end, Clyde immediately shut up when Ronnie Anne was in his line of vision. She took the empty seat next to Lincoln, smiling at him all the while.

"Hey, Ronnie Anne," Lincoln welcomed.

"'Sup, Lame-O?" Ronnie Anne answered back before turning to Clyde. "And best friend of Lame-O?"

"Eh, I've been alright," Lincoln said casually. "Personally, the only thing I've been trying to do is not lose my lunch at all the mushy-wushy, wuuvy-dovey antics I've been seeing around school."

"Preachin' to the choir on that one," Ronnie Anne commented with derision. "Like, earlier, I saw Rusty Spokes and Polly Pain holding hands and looking all shy and junk in the hallway. If I had stared at that a second longer, I'd have thrown up."

"Right?" Lincoln agreed with a laugh, one that Ronnie Anne joined in on.

Meanwhile, Clyde squirmed and fidgeted about in his seat, hoping that Lincoln wouldn't dare do what he cautioned against doing.

Once their laughing fit ended, Ronnie Anne finally took notice of the purple basket that Lincoln had in his hands.

"Hey, what'cha got there?" she asked, pointing at the basket.

Lincoln looked down. "Oh these?"

He then turned to Clyde and gave him a quick wink before turning back to Ronnie Anne, holding up the basket for her to get a better look.

"These Ronnie Anne, are the best cookies that have ever been baked in the history of humankind. Even the culinary gods themselves bow before these delicacies of dynamite."

Ronnie Anne looked down at the cookies and had to admit, based off their scent alone, they did look rather promising.

"That good, huh? So, what, did your sisters bake 'em for you?" she teased, hoping to get a rise out of the boy.

Rather than blush and object profusely like she wanted, Lincoln merely shook his head, all while having a satisfied grin on his face.

"Actually, no. Y'know Cookie, right? The quiet girl in our Home Ec class? Well, she baked 'em all for me for Valentine's Day! Am I lucky or what?"

Lincoln, not taking any notice of how silent Ronnie Anne had gotten, jabbed his thumb at Clyde and told her, "Oh, and get this, Ronnie Anne, Clyde thought that you'd be mad at me if you found out that I accepted them. Can you believe that?"

Lincoln laughed, fully amused at what he thought was a complete misstep on Clyde's part. After all, it had been at least ten seconds after Lincoln told Ronnie Anne about the cookies and he was neither crying "Uncle!" at the top of a flagpole, suspended from his underwear, nor had he received a swift, painful kick on the butt. As far as he was concerned, he was in the clear.

"I mean, seriously, what's to get upset about? You're the coolest girl, like, ever and you already said that you didn't care about Valentine's Day, right? What's a couple cookies from another girl supposed mean to someone like you? Right?"

Lincoln wiped a tear from his eyes, his laughing dying down to a few snickers and giggles. With his focus now fully on Ronnie Anne, Lincoln expected to see her as amused and entertained by his story as he was.

Instead, Lincoln found the girl's expression to be quite…unsettling. From his time with Ronnie Anne, he had gotten to experience a lot of her emotions and feelings: sadness, joy, anger, amusement, disgust, timidity, happiness…but this…this was completely undiscernible. She didn't look very pleased but she didn't look angry, either.

It was as if she was trying to decide how to feel about the cookie ordeal. Whatever it was, Lincoln wished she could give him some clues so he'd know how to approach her.

"R-Ronnie Anne, tell me I'm right," Lincoln prompted nervously.

He jerked back in surprise when Ronnie Anne slammed her hands against the table, standing up from her seat and visibly tremble and quake as she bore holes into the table with her heated glare.

Now  _that_  was an expression that Lincoln knew far too well; the calm before the storm. Whatever it was that Lincoln did to set her off, he needed to get to the bottom of it and fast.

Before he could say another word, Ronnie Anne bolted off, not minding all the people she bumped into as she left the scene in a huff.

"Ronnie Anne, wait!" Lincoln yelled as she saw her disappear behind the cafeteria's entry doors.

His heart told him to give chase and apologize but his brain told him otherwise. Lincoln sided with his brain on this one. He didn't know what he said that made Ronnie Anne upset. He knew it couldn't have been about the cookies. Like she told him, she couldn't care less about Valentine's Day, which to Lincoln, meant that she wouldn't be bothered by some friendly gift from another girl.

_Right?_

Lincoln looked to Clyde for concord but found a stern look instead.

"Told you," he said with folded arms.

Lincoln just sighed and rubbed the sides of his temples with his fingers. Valentine's Day had always been stressful for the boy, but this made the prospect of parading around in a diaper and wings a cakewalk in comparison.


	2. Chapter 2

Another pang of misery and guilt struck Lincoln in the chest—about the fortieth one of the day—as he lightly banged the back of his head against his locker while recapping the cookie incident and the unfortunate ramifications that followed.

The school day had ended about half an hour ago, but rather than get lost in the massive exodus of enthusiastic students, chatting amongst themselves about their Valentine's Day exploits, Lincoln opted to stay behind for a little while so he could think in peace.

Not only was Ronnie Anne clearly mad at him but Clyde wasn't happy with him, either. It didn't take much for Lincoln to understand why Clyde was ticked off. He had ignored Clyde's advice, brushing it off to the side as if his insight was totally worthless. No wonder he had been getting the cold shoulder from him all day.

Lincoln sighed mournfully. Nothing made him feel more like a loser than disappointing his loved ones. To him, not only did it mean that he messed up on a grand scale by making someone that he cared about miserable or angry, but it also meant that even if he made amends, he'd have to carry around the memory of his failure with him forever.

But this was worse.  _Way_  worse. Lincoln knew he screwed up, that much was certain but unlike most cases, like the one with Clyde, he didn't know what the heck he did wrong with Ronnie Anne! What on Earth was so wrong about showing off a Valentine's Day gift to someone that clearly found no interest in the holiday? She had professed that opinion to him  _herself_  for crying out loud! At worst, she should've been apathetic or maybe a little envious about the fact that he got cookies and she didn't but…rage? Indignation? That didn't make any sense to him at all.

And what made things more confusing and heartbreaking for Lincoln was that brief flash of emotion on Ronnie Anne's face before she harshly banged her hands against the lunch table and stormed out the cafeteria in a huff. He couldn't decide on what it was at first, but after he mulled over it long enough, he finally figured out what it was: demoralization. Complete and utter defeat. No wonder Lincoln had a difficult time discerning it at first; Ronnie Anne Santiago never felt defeated. Besides Lynn, Lincoln never knew anyone that had a more indomitable resolve than Ronnie Anne. Whatever Lincoln said or did must've utterly  _crushed_  her.

Lincoln sighed again as he turned to open his locker, intent on grabbing his belongings and heading for home. He couldn't stay in school forever and even if he wanted to, he wasn't getting any closer to the answer to his dilemma anyways. And besides that, Lincoln couldn't wait to get home and embrace the humiliating Valentine's Day pastime of Leni's Cupid cosplay. To him, it would serve as a form of penance for making two of his friends feel bad.

Upon opening his locker, he found some of his textbooks, his homework assignments, and the cookie basket that he had put away in his locker shortly after lunch ended. Stuffing the schoolwork and books in his backpack, Lincoln took the cookie basket, an object that only brought about painful memories at the sight and smell of the tasty treats, and tucked it under one arm as he made his way towards the school's front entrance.

It didn't take long for him to finally stand before the entrance doors but before he could use his free hand and push them out of his way, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned his head around and felt his stomach clench nervously.

"Clyde?"

There, standing behind him, was Clyde, looking upon him with a look of…pity? Lincoln certainly hoped so. Despite knowing he didn't deserve it, he couldn't help but feel like wanting the comfort of his sympathy.

"The one and only," he said calmly with a small smile on his face.

Taking his smile as a sign that things were at least a little better between the two of them, Lincoln quickly took the initiative to making things right.

"Look, Clyde, I'm sorry. Like, really, really, sorry," he began frantically. "I really messed up, man. You were right. I shouldn't have told Ronnie Anne about the cookie basket and-"

He stopped when he saw Clyde lift his hand off his shoulder to hold it up in front of him.

"Water under the bridge," Clyde responded as he pushed the school entrance doors out of his way and started walking ahead of Lincoln, who followed closely behind him. "You didn't even need to say anything for me to get that you were sorry. I could tell just by looking at you."

They didn't make it very far as Clyde decided to take a seat on the bottom step of the school entrance stairway. Lincoln took a seat right next to him and shuffled the cookie basket into his lap.

"All the same, though," Clyde continued with a stern face, "I was angrier about how you treated Ronnie Anne, way more than how you brushed me off."

"Yeah, I'm pretty angry at myself, too," Lincoln admitted with slumped shoulders. "But you know what makes it even worse? I know I messed up but I just can't figure out what it is I did wrong. I mean, Ronnie Anne said that she didn't care abou-"

"Okay, just stop. Seriously, stop saying that, Lincoln."

Lincoln snapped out of his self-deprecation and pity party as he heard Clyde's irritated tone cut through him.

"Stop saying what?" Lincoln asked apprehensively.

His question only made Clyde frown an even bigger scowl.

"Stop saying that Ronnie Anne doesn't care about Valentine's Day like it means anything. It doesn't."

Lincoln simply shrugged helplessly. "Why doesn't it? You think she lied to me or something?"

After seeing Lincoln's genuine befuddled disposition, Clyde sighed in disappointment, weary about how after everything he went through today, that Lincoln still didn't understand.

"Of course not," Clyde answered, "but that's not the point and I honestly can't believe you still haven't figured that out yet."

Lincoln flinched. He never heard Clyde lay it on so thick before and it only served as a reminder of how much of an idiot he was for not only hurting Ronnie Anne's feelings but not having a clue on what he did wrong.

Clyde, after seeing Lincoln's reaction to his firm reprimand, took pity on his friend and scooted closer so he could wrap an arm around his far shoulder. He wouldn't speak until Lincoln looked up at him.

"Lincoln, I don't think she lied to you but look, just because Valentine's Day doesn't mean anything to Ronnie Anne doesn't mean that it doesn't mean anything to everyone else. Everyone like, oh, I dunno, the girl who made homemade cookies for you? You really think Ronnie Anne would be happy with another girl expressing how much they like you, especially with how you practically rubbed it in her face?"

Nothing, not even the force of one of Lynn's dodgeball throws to the face, could compare to the clarity of his wrongdoing hitting him. Now, everything made a lot more sense. He had been so caught up on his own perspective of Valentine's Day that he hadn't bothered to think about anyone else.

All day long, it had been about  _he_  felt and about how  _he_  respected the Valentine's Day traditions. Sure, he thought about Ronnie Anne's perspective, too, but only because of how easily it apparently aligned with his outlook on the holiday.

And because of that, not only had he belittled Cookie's feelings by treating her gift like some trinket, some trophy to mount on a mantel, but he completely disregarded how anyone with a brain should've seen what the cookie basket meant, especially his girlfriend, whom he had utterly disrespected by acting like she wouldn't care, like she wasn't  _supposed_  to care.

At this point, his conscience was giving him the beating of a lifetime and Lincoln took the punches in stride, knowing he deserved every blow.

"Get it now?" Clyde asked as he pulled back and saw the gears turning in Lincoln's head.

Lincoln cringed. Despite this startling, groundbreaking revelation that Clyde had mercifully given him, if he were being honest, he couldn't say that he got it.

At least, not fully.

"Well, uh, sorta," Lincoln admitted as he twiddled his thumbs and braced for Clyde to chew him out.

Clyde folded his arms. "Sorta? What'd you mean by that? How can you not see that you-"

"Wait, Clyde, just hear me out. Please," Lincoln begged and breathed a sigh of relief when Clyde relaxed and allowed Lincoln to have the floor with a wave of the hand.

"Look, what you said to me makes perfect sense. It really did and I understand how big of a jerk I was for acting the way I did to her. All the same, though, you'd think that would make Ronnie Anne's feelings obvious, right? You'd think she'd want to punt me into the next century like you said she would."

Clyde contemplated on his words and having found some truth to him, he nodded.

"But the thing is," Lincoln continued, "right before she left, she looked…defeated. That's what tripped me up all day. I've never seen her like that before. If what you say is true, and I think it is, I should've gotten creamed on the spot instead of getting that look."

Lincoln let out a heaving sigh and rest the side of his head on his fist.

"That's why…that's why I can't apologize to her, at least not yet. I think there's something to this that I'm not seeing and I want to make sure that when I apologize to her, I do it when I understand everything that I did wrong. I can't approach her with anything less."

Instead of objecting like Lincoln suspected, especially since it seemed like Lincoln was brushing Clyde off again, Clyde gave him a smile.

"Well, if you really feel that way, I'm not gonna stop you from figuring it out. Personally, though, I think you need to apologize to her ASAP. But, unlike my advice about the cookies, I won't hold it against you if you think that I'm not giving you the best advice. If you really think there's more to it than what I'm telling you, than go for it."

Lincoln graciously accepted the welcoming gesture with a smile of his own.

"Thanks, Clyde," Lincoln said gratefully.

Well, one friend down, one more to go. It was a start, at least, and although Lincoln had no idea where to go from here, at least he knew that he truly had Clyde back on his side.

The levity didn't last long, however, as Clyde's question brought the matter at hand back into focus.

"So, what'll you do now?" Clyde asked.

That was a good question. What would Lincoln do? He had been given the nickname "the man with a plan" for thinking on his feet and coming up with a solution that was at least 90% foolproof.

But as he pondered about the possible outcomes for resolving things with Ronnie Anne, nothing he thought of met the mark. Apologizing to Ronnie Anne now would feel hollow. Clyde seemed to be as in the dark about Ronnie Anne's defeated expression as he was.

Who else could he turn to? It wasn't if he knew anyone who could give him some much-needed perspective on the way girls thi-

Lincoln inwardly facepalmed. How could he forget about the fact that he had ten sisters at home? They were all girls; surely one of them had to have the answer, right? After all, despite hating how his sisters meddled in his affairs, he had to admit that they were on the money about Ronnie Anne liking him, a revelation he was forever thankful for them divulging to him.

"Well, I have ten sisters," Lincoln answered. "Maybe one of them can help me out with some-"

Before he could finish his sentence, Lincoln felt the phone in his pocket vibrate. He gave Clyde a look that told him to wait while he attended to his call as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

Upon looking at the screen, he realized from the name flashing, it was his father trying to reach out to him. Pressing the call button on the touchscreen, Lincoln held up the phone to his ear.

"Hello?" Lincoln answered.

 _"Lincoln? Is that you?"_ he heard his father respond on the other end, his voice hushed and trembling.

"Um, yeah, it's me, Dad. Is everything okay?" Lincoln asked, a hint of concern in his voice as he picked up on his father's fear.

 _"No! Everything is not okay! Listen to me son, whatever you do, do not come home right now! You hear me?!"_  Lynn Sr. ordered in a much louder, frantic voice.

The blood in Lincoln's veins froze and his eyes widened. "What's wrong?! Is there a burglar in the house?! Did the house catch on fire?!"

Before his father could answer, he could hear muffled cackling and what sounded like wood breaking.

 _"No! Worse than all of that!"_  Lynn Sr. shouted.  _"Your sisters are in a chocoholic frenzy! After they ate all their chocolate, they started going ballistic and are tearing up the house to look for more! For our own safety, your mother and I are barricaded in our room until they've calmed down! There's nothing we can do to stop them! Lincoln, do not, I repeat, do not come home until-"_

Lincoln squeezed his eyes shut and cringed when the very loud, very telling sound of a window smashing rendered the air.

Though slightly disturbed at the chaos that was happening, Lincoln was much calmer now, knowing full well that his sisters would peter out eventually.

"Oh no, that might've been the TV flying through the living room window! Either that or Lynn broke another vase with her baseball bat! But like I said, stay away from home until I call you back and tell you that it's safe!"

With that, the call ended and Lincoln shuffled his phone away, annoyed that his ten saviors were acting more like ten sinners.

"Well, the sisters option is out," he grumbled. "They're desperately trying to look for more chocolate and are currently ransacking the house trying to find it."

"Really?" Clyde asked, racked with disappointment. "Darn. Now that means that I have to give Lori her gift later. I was hoping that I'd be able to do it right after school. Oh well, at least that means she'll be too distracted with the chocolate to do anything with stupid Bobby."

Suddenly, the dim light bulb in Lincoln's head sparked to life! This was it! Clyde had just given him the answer to his problem!

Grabbing Clyde by the shoulders, Lincoln hopped around excitedly in his seat.

"That's it! I'll go talk to Bobby! He knows more about Ronnie Anne than I do! Maybe he can give me some insight on what to do!"

With his plan set in motion, Lincoln grabbed his cookie basket and ran towards his destination, only looking back over his shoulder so he could yell back to Clyde, "Thanks, Clyde! I'll see you later and good luck with Lori!"

Clyde waited for a few seconds until Lincoln completely disappeared from sight. Once he was sure that Lincoln wouldn't come running back, he looked from side to side before reaching into his pocket and pulling out an oatmeal raisin cookie, a cookie that he had snatched out of Lincoln's cookie basket while he was distracted with his call with his dad.

He took a big whiff of it and sighed contently before taking a bite and squealing at the wonderful taste.

"Man, Lincoln was right! These are to die for!"

* * *

Actions spoke louder than words. Lori had taught Lincoln that life lesson before they went out on a double date with Bobby and Ronnie Anne.

Lincoln knew he had to make things right but before as he stood before the Santiago household's front door, he couldn't help feel like a knight, aiming to storm a fortress and slay a dragon.

The tension of an upcoming battle, the anticipation of imminent danger from the dragon's scorching fire…those feelings were pretty synonymous with his current situation to say the least. Of course, Ronnie Anne was no dragon but Lincoln would gladly take on the mightiest of mythical beasts than take bear the brunt of Ronnie Anne's wrath.

Swallowing down his fear, Lincoln reached his hand forward and rang the doorbell and felt his heartbeat speed up when he heard the sound.

There was no turning back now. Well, unless he wanted to run away and make it seem like he had "ding dong ditched" them, a discomforting thought given that he was supposed to be brave and make up for his transgressions.

In a matter of seconds, the door opened and there stood Bobby, smiles and all.

"Ah, there you are, Lincoln," Bobby greeted warmly.

"Huh?" was all Lincoln could reply with. That sentence...it did not sound right to him at all.

"Something wrong?" Bobby asked, smile still present.

"You say that like you were expecting me," Lincoln responded with a quizzical look.

Bobby chuckled. "That's because I was. Come on in and I'll explain everything."

Lincoln took up Bobby's offer and sat on the living room couch, placing his cookie basket off to the side while Bobby took a seat next to him. By now, instead of a smile, Bobby had the same serious, austere appearance Clyde had given him earlier as he dressed him down.

"When Ronnie Anne came back home, looking as sad as she did, I knew that it was because of something you did to her…and on Valentine's Day, no less."

Lincoln shrank in his seat, feeling the tidal wave of guilt submerging him all over again.

"But I'm not here to beat you up about it," Bobby assured. "You look plenty beaten up already. I take it you want to apologize to my little sister, right? Well, she's sulking up in her room so if you wanna go see her, that's where you'll find her."

As nice as the prospect of trying to get things resolved sounded, Lincoln knew he came here for a reason.

"Actually, Bobby, I came here to talk to you first."

Taking a deep breath, Lincoln explained everything he could to Bobby with the best of his recollection. He told him about what Ronnie Anne said to him days ago about Valentine's Day, about Cookie's gift, about how he had unintentionally made Ronnie Anne feel spiteful and angry, about how he didn't understand what he did wrong, about how Clyde explained how he acted like such a bonehead…

But more than that, Lincoln told him about that look Ronnie Anne briefly wore before she ran away from him. Bobby took in the information with a few receptive nods of the head before he spoke up.

"So, you think there's more to it than what Clyde told you about, right?"

"Uh huh," Lincoln said. "I've never seen her look like that before. Never. It really shook me up. I was hoping that you could give me some insight on what you think could've caused that. I wanna make sure that I get everything in order before I apologize."

Bobby hummed as he pondered the situation that Lincoln laid out before him.

"Now, you say she looked…defeated, right?

"Yeah, as if she lost at something she knew she didn't have a chance at winning."

Bobby scrunched up his face, clearly in thought, as he stroked his chin and mulled over Lincoln's description.

"Defeated…defeated…defe-"

He stood up suddenly, as if he had been struck up lightning.

"I think I might know what the problem is," Bobby said as he looked down to Lincoln, who sprung up to his feet and jumped up and down excitedly.

"Really?!" Lincoln asked as his eyes dazzled with hope.

"Well, yeah, but the thing is, I don't think it's my place to tell you."

Lincoln immediately stopped grinning and gave Bobby a frown. "Why not?"

"Because Ronnie Anne'll pummel me if I tell you," Bobby answered with a laugh. "And besides that, it'll mean more if she tells you herself. I dunno if she will but I'm willing to bet that she'll tell you once she realizes how truly sorry you are."

Well, it wasn't what he wanted but Lincoln supposed he could give it a whirl. After all, he had a much better understanding of his screw-up thanks to Clyde and it what Bobby told him was true, hopefully, he could get to the true heart of the matter with a heartfelt apology.

Before Lincoln could leave, Bobby placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"And Lincoln, one last thing. I don't care what anyone says; Valentine's Day means something special for everyone. I don't care if they tell you they don't care about it or not. My little sister is no exception."

With that, Lincoln made his way up the stairs, intent on righting his wrongs. Had he stayed just a little bit longer, he would've noticed Bobby reaching into his cookie basket and snagging a few cookies for himself.

"Don't mind if I do," he said and strolled out the front door to head to his car and meet up with Lori.

* * *

Unlike with the front door, Lincoln only had some apprehension this time as he stood outside of Ronnie Anne's bedroom door. Confronting Ronnie Anne would probably be nerve-racking but it paled in comparison to avoiding her and giving her the impression that he didn't care about her.

"Ronnie Anne?" Lincoln called out softly as he knocked on her door.

The silence he got as a response was disheartening but Lincoln couldn't bother to feel as though he deserved better.

"Hey. It's me, Lincoln. You know, the stupid jerk that treated you like garbage today and doesn't deserve to have someone as cool and awesome as you in his life?"

Again, silence greeted his efforts.

' _Well, at least that means she's listening. At least, I think she is...'  
_

"I just wanna say that I'm sorry for the way I acted today. I was an idiot for not realizing what Cookie's gift meant and even more of an idiot for not realizing what bragging about my cookie basket would've done to you. But what's worse, I acted like you wouldn't even care. I made it seem like your feelings didn't count, like I could just take them for granted at the drop of a hat. That really wasn't cool of me."

This time around, Lincoln felt his heart sink when Ronnie Anne didn't give him an answer. He would've preferred her yelling at him to bug off than absolutely nothing at all.

He figured she'd be resistant to his apology at first but as he poured out his soul and threw himself at her mercy, he thought that she'd at least act like she considered his words by opening the door to take a little peek at him to see if he was being genuine.

But nothing? Not a word or gesture? Lincoln couldn't help but feel as though things were truly hopeless but he knew he wasn't done yet.

"And just like at Jean Juan's French-Mex Buffet, I'm not only willing to say the right thing but do the right thing, whatever it is that makes things better between us. If that means going away and never bothering you again…"

A few tears streamed down Lincoln's face as he thought about a life without Ronnie Anne, a painful experience that would feel even worse if she truly wanted that to be so.

He wiped them away harshly and spoke again, a task that the lump in his throat wouldn't allow so easily.

"I-if that's what it takes then…then I'll do it. Again, I'm really sorry and I know that's not enough but…"

But what? What exactly did he deserve other than her complete and utter indifference? If that's what she wanted, that's what she'd get.

Bowing his head in defeat, Lincoln sighed, ready to turn around and leave. It was over. He had lost someone near and dear to him and nothing could change that now. What was the use in fighting it any longer?

"Yeah, I'll just be going now," he said as he accepted what he had brought on himself.

"Leaving already?" he heard a voice softly and mockingly ask right next to his ear.

Lincoln leaped back in fright, spinning around to face the interloper that had barged in on his melancholy.

His frustrated, agitated features softened into awe and glee once he realized who it was that startled him.

There was Ronnie Anne, hands stuffed in the front pocket of her hoodie, grinning smugly at him.

"Hey, Lame-O. Man, you look terrible. Did your favorite comic book artist retire or something?"

"Ronnie Anne!" Lincoln exclaimed and kneeled on the ground before her, face to the ground as if he were worshipping a golden idol statue from Biblical times.

"Look, I'm really, really, really-"

"Sorry, I know," Ronnie Anne interrupted with a snicker. "Now quit groveling already. It was cute at first but now it's getting kinda sad to look at."

Lincoln quickly got up to his feet, brushing away at the dust on his clothes that his kowtowing picked up.

Looking to Ronnie Anne, Lincoln nearly swooned at the smile she gave him, a gift that he thought he'd never have the privilege of seeing again. As much as he wanted to tell her sorry all over again, despite it clearly not being necessary, there was still one question that Lincoln had for her.

"How'd you know what I said? I thought you were in your room. Where were you?"

"I was," Ronnie Anne said, "until I went to the bathroom a couple minutes ago. I got out right before you came upstairs to apologize. Once you did, I sat back and enjoyed your little performance. Gotta say, Lincoln, you have quite the way with words."

Everything that she said and did told him that they were on the same page but rather than foolishly assume the best, Lincoln timidly ventured into the realm of clarification.

"So…so does that mean that you…you forgive me?"

"Heck no," she quickly replied, absolutely stone-faced.

Before Lincoln could reel back from the disheartening news, Ronnie Anne walked up to him, quickly got him in a side headlock, and roughly dragged her knuckles up and down his scalp, chortling as he failed to squirm out of the noogie she was expertly administrating.

Once she had enough, Ronnie Anne set her captive free, straightened out his hair the best she could, and beamed at him.

"Now, I forgive you."

Despite that unpleasant retribution, Lincoln couldn't help but smile back at her. For the first time since…forever, the sweet sensation of relief hit Lincoln like a refreshing spring breeze. He was finally in Ronnie Anne's good graces again. Nothing could warrant him to not bask in the knowledge that they were on good terms again…

Well, except for that one tiny thing that had been pestering him since he saw it.

"Say, listen, Ronnie Anne, I'm glad you're not mad at me anymore...but I still think that something's bugging you," Lincoln said.

He didn't miss Ronnie Anne's slight flinch of the line of her mouth nor did he overlook how her eyes were now looking down at the floor.

"What gives you that idea?" she asked timorously.

Lincoln pressed on, hoping that despite his obtruding, that Ronnie Anne would give him answer to the source of her unexplained vexation.

"Well, maybe I'm just looking into things too much, but right before you stormed out at lunch, you had this look on your face, a look that said that you lost at something that you never had a shot at winning. Can you tell me what that was all about?"

He merely got a half-hearted shrug of her shoulders and her eyes squeezing shut.

"Ronnie Anne?"

Before he could speak up again, Ronnie Anne sighed heavily and looked up at him.

"Come with me," she said sternly.

With that, she turned to head downstairs, hoping that Lincoln was following her like she wanted. Lincoln did as he was instructed and followed closely behind Ronnie Anne, careful not to bump into her.

As they made it halfway down the stairs, Ronnie Anne turned to him, her eyes narrowed and a small warning frown on her face.

"And don't tell anyone about this or you're dead. Got it?"

Lincoln nodded enthusiastically, not wanting to ruin his relationship that he had just mended.

The pair continued their trip to Ronnie Anne's destination until at last, they were downstairs, standing in the kitchen. As Ronnie Anne left to retrieve whatever it was that she wanted to show him, Lincoln looked around at all the cupboards, the refrigerator, the tiled floor, the sink full of brown-stained pots and pans…

_'Huh?'_

The sight of the dirty dishes stirred Lincoln into action as he walked over to inspect them. They all had the same brown-colored stain on them. Before he could give them another look, the sound of throat clearing prompted him to turn around and face Ronnie Anne, holding out a large, full trash bag. Taking that as a sign that she wanted him to look inside, Lincoln did so and noticed that the bag was full of some of the same brown goop as was on the plates in the sink. Upon looking more closely, Lincoln could also see what appeared to be the weirdest looking pieces of chocolate that he had ever seen. Some of them looked burnt and therefore, completely inedible.

"What does all of this mean?" Lincoln asked, noting how timid Ronnie Anne appeared now.

She put the trash bag behind her and looked towards Lincoln again. If Lincoln didn't know any better, he would swear that she was red in the face, at least a little anyways.

But what exactly did Ronnie Anne have to be embarrassed about?

"Remember how I said that I didn't care about Valentine's Day and that I didn't want you to get me anything?" she began to explain shyly, playing with the tip of her ponytail with a finger.

He nodded and waited for her to continue, which she did after taking a steadying breath.

"Well, that's because I didn't want you to give me anything after I realized I couldn't get you a gift."

Lincoln thought about her explanation and felt that it partially made sense. He honestly wouldn't care if Ronnie Anne didn't give him anything if he had given her a gift but he supposed he could understand why she would want to avoid a situation that would make her come off as uncaring.

What  _didn't_  make sense was how she lamented about how she couldn't get him anything for Valentine's Day. Lincoln had never seen a store that wasn't at least half-full of Valentine's Day gifts in stock around this time of year; teddy bears, chocolates, flowers, and greetings cards as far as the eye could see. Couldn't she have picked out one of those for him?

"Why not?" Lincoln asked with a raised eyebrow.

Rather than get an answer right away, Ronnie Anne made circles on the floor with the tip of her shoe, her blush increasing two-fold.

"I, uh," she faltered, "I wanted to make you some Valentine's Day chocolate…"

As soon as the words left her mouth, Ronnie Anne froze, the weight and implication of her words hitting her like a bullet train. She looked up at Lincoln and waved her arms in front of her defensively.

"B-but not in a dopey kind of way, okay?! I-I just wanted to make you something from scratch because you're a really cool guy and I thought that you deserved something nice! That's all!"

Lincoln held back the urge to snicker at how adorable Ronnie Anne was being, not wanting to get beaten up or worse, make Ronnie Anne feel even more flustered and run off to go hide under her bed.

He reached out to her and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, getting her to stop her defensive behavior to look at him. His calming smile and non-judgmental eyes soothed her and with her resolve fortified once more, Ronnie Anne finished her tale, albeit with obvious forlorn.

"But after I tried to make some for you…I failed. Miserably. No matter how many times I tried to make it, the chocolate would either taste gross or look weird or burnt or…well, you get the idea. The point is, I couldn't make you anything no matter how many times I attempted it. That's why I told you not to get me anything and that's why I told you I didn't care about Valentine's Day. I wanted to hide the fact that I couldn't even make you some stupid chocolate without screwing up."

Lincoln took in her woeful expression and felt guilt knocking at his front door again when he finally understood why she had been so hurt, why she felt like such a failure.

Taking his hand that was on her shoulder, he had his other hand do the same with her other shoulder, prompting Ronnie Anne to stiffen and look at him curiously. Without warning, Lincoln closed the gap between them and wrapped her up in a gentle hug, eliciting a tiny squeak to escape her throat. This did nothing but amplify her already blazing blush.

"And when I flaunted Cookie's gift, it just reminded you how you couldn't do the same for me, right?" Lincoln asked.

He felt her nod and Lincoln groaned as his worst fears were confirmed.

' _Just as I thought. Nice going, Lincoln.'_

"Great. Now I feel like an even bigger jerk than before."

Ronnie Anne gently pried herself away from the hug so she could lightly flick Lincoln on his forehead.

"Well, you should," she playfully scolded. "You're lucky I'm letting you off the hook, though."

Lincoln chuckled at her joke as he rubbed at his slightly sore spot on his forehead.

With absolutely nothing else left to weigh down his conscience, Lincoln was ready to spend the rest of the day with Ronnie Anne, spending quality time together at the arcade like they wanted to do and…

Oh wait. Couldn't do  _that_  yet. He had almost forgotten all about Cookie and the teeny tiny problem about the crush she might have on him.

"But now what?" Lincoln asked a confused Ronnie Anne. "If it's really true that Cookie likes me, then I'm gonna have to tell her that I don't feel the same way about her and after all the hard work she poured into me. I don't think I can enjoy her cookies without feeling guilty."

Ronnie Anne frowned slightly at the dilemma Lincoln aired out, feeling as if it were a non-issue that Lincoln should've realized before he even said it out loud.

"Don't feel bad," Ronnie Anne told him assuredly. "If Cookie's really the type of person that thinks that you owe her your heart over some cookies, then she deserves to feel disappointed."

A smile broke out on her face as Lincoln not only appeared to consider her words but take them fully to heart.

"Well, I guess that's true," Lincoln admitted, not finding any fault with her wisdom.

Okay,  _now_  that there truly no loose ends to tie up, Lincoln presented the suggestion that he had wanted to commit to since he thought of it.

"Say, you wanna hit up the arcade like we wanted?" he asked.

He was disappointed when she heartily shook her head but felt a bit at ease at the smile she had on her face.

"I got a better idea. So, we both agree that Valentine's Day, despite having some decent perks to it, is ultimately just a giant sap fest, right? So, how's about we watch some really cheesy Valentine's Day movies, make fun of 'em, and eat some of those cookies while we do?"

Lincoln's eyes widened with delight at the proposition. It was enjoyable to poke fun at Bobby and Lori's relationship behind their backs but getting to do something similar while eating Cookie's delicious desserts sounded like the epitome of a good time.

"That…actually sounds really fun!" Lincoln said.

"Great," Ronnie Anne cheered and walked towards the living room to get take her spot on the couch in front of the TV. Before she got far, though, she turned around to face Lincoln, a playful, coy grin plastered on her face.

"But just so we're clear, I get dibs on all the ginger snaps."

As she predicted, Lincoln cutely pouted and whined at her assertive claim.

"What?! Come on, Ronnie Anne, you know those are my favorite!"

Her grin got even wider. "Yeah, well, I like 'em, too. Plus, you can consider it payback for what you did to me today."

With that, she turned around and left Lincoln to mumble to himself and stew at his misfortune. She'd make sure that he got over it one of these days.

* * *

Ronnie Anne and Lincoln shared another belly laugh as they sat together on the couch, watching the sappy romantic comedy that had caught their eye. They had no idea what the movie was called, as they had only been watching for a few minutes, but they were already having a blast, laughing at the contrived plot, the corny acting, and best of all, at the cheesy, over-the-top dialogue.

As they sat back and enjoyed this newly founded pastime, Lincoln remembered the words that Bobby had told him earlier and had to admit, he was absolutely right: Valentine's Day did mean something for everyone, even people like him and Ronnie Anne, who couldn't care less about the hokey, sappy, sugary Valentine's Day theatrics enough to commit to them but still found enjoyment out of them in their own way.

"Ugh, can you believe that guy?" Ronnie Anne asked.

Lincoln agreed with a nod as he blindly fished for a cookie of his own, not caring about what he got.

"I know, right? Who cares if his girlfriend held his best friend's hand? That's no reason to want to fly to another country just to make her feel guilty."

"I mean, who cares, right? It's just hand holding. What's the big deal?" Ronnie Anne jeered, wiping a tear from her eye from all that laughing she had been doing about a minute ago.

"Right?" Lincoln agreed as he stuffed his pecan cookie into his mouth in a flash and went to blindly grab another cookie…

…only to fail to see that Ronnie Anne was doing the same thing as him. They stiffened when they felt their fingers brush against one another's and looked down at the basket to confirm their suspicions.

Ronnie Anne's hand was on top of Lincoln's, whose hand was on top of one of the cookies in the basket.

Simultaneously, they looked up to face each other and felt their faces redden at the realization of what they accidentally did. However, neither of them looked away nor pulled their hands away as they were lost in the gaze of each other's dazed eyes.

Silence ensued for a good ten seconds before Lincoln said the first thing that came to mind.

"Um…h-happy Valentine's Day, Ronnie Anne," he said, capping off his nervous statement with a few nervous chuckles.

He felt his cheeks grow hotter as he mentally berated himself for saying something so unfitting and so uncool in an attempt to diffuse the awkward tension in the air and retain normalcy.

Shutting his eyes, he waited for her retribution, verbal or otherwise, to rain upon him like an unforgiving hailstorm. When he felt a soft pressure wrap around his hand instead, however, his heart fluttered erratically, having a good idea of what had just happened.

Slowly, he peeled his eyes back and looked down at what he felt and grinned shyly; Ronnie Anne had taken the initiative and held his hand in a soft grasp.

He focused on Ronnie Anne's face again and was both surprised and relieved that she looked just as flustered as he was.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Lincoln," Ronnie Anne said.


	3. Chapter 3

Clyde was beginning to question Dr. Lopez's credibility at this point.

She had always been a source of enlightenment when it came to handling internal crises and for the most part, they prevented him from "spiraling" whenever he confronted a bad situation that would normally leave him unable to cope with day-to-day life.

But after giving himself yet another self-assuring pep talk in his bathroom mirror, chock full of eye-rolling clichés and platitudes like "You got this, man!" and "You can do it!", Clyde could do nothing but bemoan the lack of progress that Dr. Lopez's advice was affording him.

Once again, Clyde was having issues with his confidence.

However, this was much,  _much_  worse than any time he ever felt unsure of himself. Whenever that brand of anxiety would befall him, it was always during times where he would face a new scenario, something completely foreign to him.

But showing Lori his affection with a Valentine's Day gift? That was supposed to come easy to him! He shouldn't be questioning himself, wondering if what he's doing is even worth it.

Sure, he had failed to woo her for the last three years, but all that did was inspire him to step his game up and spend every day, following last year's Valentine's Day, to pour his heart and soul into an 18x24 portrait of Lori from the neck up—utilizing as much knowledge from different artists and painters on DIY internet video tutorials and internet blogs that he could to make it magnificent enough to reflect Lori's eternal elegance.

It was supposed to be his magnum opus, his crowning achievement in the pursuit for Lori's undying love and affection! It was supposed to be perfect! It couldn't possibly fail!

And yet, as he hunched over the bathroom sink, doing his best to keep the queasy unsettled feeling of his fear at bay, all he could think of was Lori rejecting his gift, much like she had done before.

Clyde supposed it all started when Lincoln had reminded him how much Lori hated last year's gift during school. Up until that point, he had pushed the memories of his failures behind him, focusing only on making Lori's gift one to cherish and remember. But hearing an unbiased, brusque recollection of his misstep from someone else, where his delusions couldn't conveniently obscure the negative ramifications of his actions, was when tiny tendrils of hopelessness began to creep in, well beyond his notice at that point. Of course, with Lincoln and Ronnie Anne's debacle following shortly afterwards, Clyde hadn't thought about Lincoln's words until Lincoln left him to talk to Bobby.

Now that he was home and there were no longer any distractions left to divert his focus, he was left with nothing but the crippling doubt, that he had mostly kept in check for the whole day, that paralyzed him from making his move.

At first, he tried to reason with himself by saying that he was apprehensive because he knew that he couldn't go over to Lincoln's house now because of his sisters wreaking havoc but Clyde knew that was a load of hogwash before the thought could fully pass him over; he knew that, ordinarily, he would go through much more tumultuous circumstances if it meant showing Lori his passion and dedication for her, especially through a year-long project that cost him hundreds of hours of his time and hundreds of dollars on paint.

Besides, even though he said that he'd give it to her later, by "later", Clyde meant about an hour  _at most_ …

…but it had been four hours by now. It was perfectly reasonable to assume that Lincoln's sisters weren't ballistic anymore and even if he was unsure, he should've at least had the courage to walk on over and check if everything was truly alright.

But even  _that_  thought terrified him.

Before he could go back to his room and sulk, Clyde's phone started ringing, vibrating about in his pocket. He retrieved it in a flash, hoping that his caller would provide a great source of distraction from his inner turmoil. Sure enough, the screen indicated that Lincoln was giving him a call. Before he pressed the call button to answer, Clyde noted that it was nearly eight o'clock.

"Hello? Lincoln?" Clyde answered after pressing the call button and pressing his phone next to his ear.

 _"Hey, Clyde,"_  Lincoln's chipper voice from the other end replied.  _"How's it goin'?"_

Choosing not to be honest, Clyde gave him a noncommittal, "Uh, fine I guess."

Clyde could almost sense Lincoln squint suspiciously at Clyde's unconvincing tone so he quickly tried to change the subject to one that he was curious about enough anyways, given how hopeless things appeared to be with Lincoln and Ronnie Anne.

"More importantly than that, how're you doing?"

_"Great, actually! Guess what, Clyde? I apologized to Ronnie Anne, and it worked! She doesn't hate me anymore!"_

Clyde perked up in genuine glee for his best friend's success. "Really?! That's great news, Lincoln!"

_"Sure is! Thanks for everything, Clyde. You really saved my butt today."_

Clyde smirked. "I take it you mean that literally, right?"

 _"Heck yeah,"_ Lincoln said.  _"My underwear's chafing enough as it is. I don't need it hanging off the school's flag pole."_

The two friends share a hearty laugh before getting back to their conversation.

"So, what're you doing now?" Clyde asked.

_"Not much. I'm just playing video games with Ronnie Anne. I took a break so I could come talk to you and thank you. Plus, I just wanted to let you know that I got text from my Dad about an hour ago. My sisters have finally calmed down and are fixing up the house right now as we speak. If you wanna give Lori your Valentine's Day gift, now's the time."_

Clyde's heart sank, along with his high morale that had only lasted about a minute. He did not need to be reminded about Lori's painting right now.

Or  _any_  time for that matter.

"Oh…uh, y-yeah. O-of course, Lincoln," Clyde stammered.

He was too caught up in his nervousness to realize how transparent his worriedness came across to Lincoln, who was quick to ask if everything was alright.

 _"Clyde? You alright?"_  Lincoln asked.

Hearing Lincoln's consideration for his well-being snapped Clyde out of his anxiety but did nothing to brighten his mood.

What was there to be anxious about? Lincoln finding out that he wasn't confident in himself? It wasn't like he deserved to come across as that in the face of reality, the reality that Lori would never love any of his gifts no matter what.

_"Yo, Clyde, I asked if you we-"_

"No, Lincoln. I'm not alright," Clyde admitted defeatedly.

_"Really? Why not?"_

"It's just…" Clyde walked over to the bathtub and sat on the edge of it, his head resting on the hand that wasn't holding his phone. "Remember when you told me how much Lori hated my previous Valentine's Day gift at school today?"

When Clyde didn't hear Lincoln reply after his pause, he continued.

"Well, the thing is, I know I looked like I just shrugged it off but…ever since you reminded me about that, I just haven't felt really, y'know, confident about giving the painting to her. I already knew she didn't like my last gift but it didn't bother me until you brought it up because before you did, all I could think about was how this painting was gonna be amazing and how it's gonna impress her because it wasn't anything like I've ever done before.

But now that I don't have any more distractions and I've sat here at home thinking about it for the last few hours…I just don't think I can do it, Lincoln. I can't think of anything but failing. I mean, it's already happened three times already. What's to say I won't strike out again?"

Clyde heard what he assumed was the sound of Lincoln smacking himself in the face, followed by a sigh.

_"Great. I just can't go five seconds without making my friends feel worthless today, can I?"_

Clyde shook his head at his friend's self-castigation. "It's not your fault, Lincoln. Really, it's not. I'm the one that can't produce the goods. First, it was that heart made of cotton balls. The year after that, a pipe cleaner tiara with little pink beads glued all over it. After that, the infamous macaroni bracelet. No matter what I do, I just give her something mediocre or mediocre  _and_  deadly."

Clyde did everything in his power to stop the waterworks from starting up and was mostly successfully, only allowing one lone tear to fall out of his eye. He watched it hit the white tile floor before going back to Lincoln.

"Face it, man, I'm a Valentine's Day disaster. Always have, always will be."

_"Clyde, I-"_

"No, Lincoln. Don't try and make me feel better. Thanks, but I think I'm gonna sit this one out. Lori sounds like she's been through enough today. I don't wanna come down there and make things worse. And besides, I'd rather  _believe_  that she'd love it than  _know_  that she'd hate it and the only way I do that is if I don't see her."

After that, Clyde waited for Lincoln to inevitably try and cheer him up, to reassure him that he was going to do fine and that there was nothing to worry about. He groaned at the thought. He'd usually appreciate Lincoln's motivational speeches and all but doing it now, when he felt that everything was so hopeless, would make it come off as condescending rather than uplifting.

 _"Clyde?"_  Lincoln spoke after nearly a minute of silence.

"Yeah?" Clyde responded almost tiredly.

_"Are you sure you're okay with giving up?"_

Clyde resisted the urge to let out a scathing, sarcastic remark, knowing that Lincoln was only trying to help.

"Uh, yeah, Lincoln. Pretty sure."

_"No, you're not."_

That response got Clyde's attention in a hurry. " _What?_ "

_"C'mon, Clyde, do you really expect me to believe that? That you spent all that time on that painting, an entire year, just so you can quit at the drop of a hat?"_

Before Clyde could tell him that that was  _exactly_ what he intended to do, he stopped and thought about what Lincoln had just told him. After everything that he did to make the painting as close to perfection as possible, Clyde found a part of himself agreeing with Lincoln.

After all the hours of advice reading he committed to, the money he spent on that easel, the canvas, the brushes, and the paint…it would all just feel like a waste to just give up so easily.

_"And besides that, don't you want Lori's opinion of you to change? Don't you want her to think that you can give her something from your heart that she can appreciate? This is your chance to do it. Trust me, a painting, especially of that quality, is gonna knock her socks off. She'd have to have a heart of stone not to like it."_

Despite everything, Clyde couldn't help but let his fantasies run wild.

There he was, at the front door of the Loud residence, handing off his painting to Lori as soon as she opened the door. Her glamorous eyes form into hearts as she gazes upon his creation with awe, letting out a dazed sigh, followed by her thanking the heavens that Clyde McBride came over to brighten her day.

More than anything, that was enough to snap Clyde out of the reverie that his doubt cast him into and now, with only a few small hints of anxiety left within him, at least as far as he was concerned, Clyde only needed to confirm that Lincoln was absolutely sure that he was sure about his prediction before he could commit to his gift giving.

"You think so?" Clyde asked.

 _"I know so, Clyde,"_  Lincoln said.  _"It's like you said, Lori's been through a lot today and you're just the guy to cheer her up."_

Clyde smiled. "Thanks, Lincoln. I really needed that."

_"Don't mention it. Now, if you'll excuse me, there's a second-place spot in "Utopian Armada IV" with Ronnie Anne's name on it, and I'm gonna make sure she gets it!"_

Clyde snickered at Lincoln's bravado, sensing that things were going to get interesting if Ronnie Anne just so happened to be in the same room as him.

_"You hear that, Ronnie Anne?! I hope you liked those cookies because you're about to get some humble pie from yours tr-oof!"_

Clyde nearly jumped at Lincoln's grunt of discomfort but calmed down after realizing that Ronnie Anne probably lightly rebuked him through brute force.

Sure enough, Lincoln said,  _"Sorry about that, Clyde. Ronnie Anne just threw a couch cushion at my face."_

 _"You're lucky it wasn't the whole couch!"_  Clyde could faintly hear Ronnie Anne yelling with mock fury.

 _"You're lucky I'm gonna give you a chance by taking it easy on you!"_  Lincoln retorted as cockily as ever.

Five seconds passed before Clyde heard Lincoln letting out a whispered,  _"Uh-oh."_

With that, the call ended and Clyde stuffed his phone away, laughing at the antics that were probably going on between his two friends right now.

Clyde then headed to his room but paused when he was halfway down the hall.

He realized that at that moment, there was no turning back. Either way, he was going to stick with either moving forward or holding back. If Lincoln's words couldn't inspire him, then nothing would and there would be no point of considering the painting as anything more than a waste of time.

With a brave nod, Clyde continued towards his room, his mind now being made up.

"Well, here goes nothing," he told himself.

He wouldn't waste Lincoln's heartfelt sentiments by being a coward. If he wouldn't do this for himself or Lori, he'd certainly do it for him.

Once he approached his bedroom door and opened it, there stood his painting, leaning against his bed just as he left it since he left the house for school in the morning. With one last look at the smile that he painted, Clyde went over to grab it, hoping to see that same smile on Lori's face once she got a good look at what he had in store for her.

* * *

' _It's gonna be fine, Clyde. You got this in the bag. You're gonna go up there, woo the bejesus out of Lori, and then you're gonna…nope. Still not working, Dr. Lopez.'_

Adjusting his painting under his arm, which was covered by a large white sheet, Clyde shook his head violently, snapping himself out of the self-motivational trance that had occupied him for most of his trip from his house to Lincoln's. Although he already made up his mind to go see Lori, Clyde thought that with a better state of mind, Dr. Lopez's pep talk advice would give him a little boost.

All it did was remind him that they'd have to talk about getting a more effective method during his next therapy session.

He finally saw the Loud residence coming into view but upon getting a closer look at the front yard, something he found rather difficult in the dead of night, he halted in his steps and did a double take as he stared at the sight before him in disbelief.

It was way worse than he thought it would be. The lawn was littered with broken wooden chairs, a coffee table with all four legs broken, a tire, a couple of footballs, a soccer ball, a tire, two bass speakers, and a few stuffed animals.

Not even Vanzilla was safe; it had several claw mark scratches alongside the trunk and a hockey stick smashed through the front window.

And none of that compared to what Clyde really found astonishing; the living room window was completely broken, only a few shards of glass remaining as the living room couch stuck through the hole the destroyed window left, indicating that someone(probably Lynn given her strength) had hurled the couch through the window in a blind fit of frantic carnage.

Clyde whistled in awe at what he saw but pushed that in the back of his head for now. He had a job to do and he would see it through.

After walking through the war zone that was the Loud's front yard, Clyde was before the front door. With one deep breath, he pressed the doorbell and got a tiny shock through his body for his troubles, causing him to yelp and pull his hand back.

' _Oh, right.'_  Clyde thought bitterly as he rubbed his aching finger against his side. 'I  _forgot that thing has always been an emergency room visit just waiting to happen. Better try the front door.'_

With a few light knocks, Clyde stood back and waited for someone to answer. A few seconds later, when someone did, his heart nearly jumped out of his throat when he saw blonde hair…

…only to realize that it belonged to Mrs. Loud and not the girl of his undying admiration.

' _Must be more jittery than I thought,_ ' Clyde thought.  _'This might be tougher than I feared.'_

"Oh, hello, Clyde," Rita said with a smile on her face that Clyde was wondering if it was just to keep up appearances in spite of everything that her house had gone through.

"Hi, Mrs. Loud," Clyde answered. "Is everything okay?"

That smile took on a bigger, more unsettling curve on one end, along with a conspicuous eye twitch that made Clyde's stomach churn.

"Well…no one got sent to the hospital this time so I suppose I should count my blessings," Rita said, then chortled maniacally enough to send cold shivers down Clyde's spine.

Clyde made a mental note to do absolutely everything in his power to never wreck anything in the Loud house, at least without quickly replacing what was broken without Mrs. Loud finding out.

Coming of her laughing fit that would make a hyena tremble, Rita faced Clyde again, this time with a less threateningly cheerful disposition.

"Anyways, what can I do for you? If you're looking for Lincoln, then I'm afraid he's not here."

"Oh, I know that," Clyde said. "I'm actually here to see Lori."

Rita's eyes widened in realization, and she smiled. "You're here to give her a Valentine's Day gift, aren't you?"

Clyde was taken aback from being put on the spot like that and merely nodded with a shy smile, causing Rita to squeal and jump up and down excitedly.

"How adorable! Oh, I'm sure she's gonna love it and…"

She stopped her jumping and cheering the minute a rather wretched thought crossed her mind.

"Wait, did you get her another macaroni bracelet?" she asked in a whisper.

Clyde frowned, knowing exactly where Mrs. Loud was getting at. The last thing he needed right now was a trip down bad memory lane.

"No," Clyde said. "Why do you ask?"

Sensing that Clyde saw her through her, Rita flashed him a wide grin while rubbing the back of her head nervously.

"W-well, y'know, I just want to make sure you didn't get her the same thing twice in a row! T-that's all!"

An awkward beat of silence followed Rita's unconvincing explanation, prompting the Loud matriarch to clear her throat theatrically before changing the subject.

"Well, anyways, Lori's busy sweeping up shattered glass in the bathroom. I'll go tell her that you're here. Just wait right there."

Turning around, Rita headed up the stairs until she was about halfway up.

"Lori?!" Rita bellowed.

"Yeah, Mom?!" Lori replied just as loudly.

"Clyde's here to see you!"

Rita didn't get a reply until five seconds later.

"Tell him I'm visiting sick relatives in Ethiopia!"

"Lori, even  _Clyde_ knows that we don't have relatives in Ethiopia, sick or otherwise!"

Another five seconds passed until a more plausible, yet still flimsy excuse from Lori sounded out. "Well, tell him I have a bad case of the elephantiasis!"

"You're about to have a bad case of the 'grounded' if you don't march your butt downstairs right now, young lady!"

"But I'm already grounded!"

"I meant  _without_  phone privileges!"

Yet another five seconds flew by, which were punctuated with Lori's elongated groan.

"Fine! Tell him I'll be there soon and that he had better keep his distance if he knows what's good for him!"

Sighing exasperatedly, Rita turned towards the front door but before she got all the way down, she flinched back in shock upon seeing Clyde waiting patiently at the doorway. She had completely forgotten that he was standing there and by the downcast look on his face, he probably picked up on every word that she and Lori had just said.

"You…heard all that, didn't you?" Rita asked sheepishly.

"Every word," Clyde said.

"Oh."

Rita tapped against the staircase rail anxiously, looking around at everything but Clyde until she got an idea for evasive action.

"Oh, would you look at that?! I think I hear Lucy calling for me! Sorry, Clyde, gotta see a goth about a bat!"

And with that, Rita bolted up the stairs while shouting, "C-coming, sweetheart! Mommy's on her way!"

Meanwhile, Clyde stood at the door, more discouraged than ever. It was one thing to envision Lori viciously tear him apart for coming up short but hearing how she did everything she could to get out simply seeing him shattered his heart into tiny pieces.

Had it not been for Mrs. Loud telling him to wait for Lori, he would've ran home and probably cried alone in his bed for hours without a care in the world at who would hear him.

With everything going against him, all he could wish for was that Lori would be kind enough to turn him away gently enough for his pride to remain intact.

* * *

With a sharp sounding  _*clink*_ noise, Lori dropped the bathroom mirror glass shards, from her wielded dustpan, into the white waste bin that she had on standby, a rather necessary convenience for cleaning up the disastrous aftermath of a chocolate-fueled rampage. With that done, she leaned the broom against the sink and took one quick look at her frowning face through the remains of the shattered mirror.

With everything that had happened today, seeing Clyde, of all people, was at the very top of the list of things that she absolutely did not need right now, especially on Valentine's Day.

It all started with the chocolate that she and her sisters all brought back from school. Leni, having gotten the most out of all of them, agreed to share her bounty of candied confections with them as long as everyone agreed to pour in their caches into one pile that everyone was welcome to partake in under two conditions: 1. They would all have an equal share of the candy and 2. They would leave some for Lincoln when he got home.

Both conditions were shamelessly broken in under three minutes when after consuming their fair share, rather noisily and sloppily at that, it didn't take long for the yearning of more chocolatey satisfaction to transform into greed and beckoning towards the allure that Lincoln's chocolate presented as it stood on the couch, waiting for the proper recipient to take part in. When Lynn had made a dive for the chocolate, the other sisters(sans Lily), sensing that their opportunity for gratification was in jeopardy, made the same dive, colliding into each other and subsequently getting into a flurry of fists and kicks as each sister made a grab at the candy until eventually, it was gone, eaten in the fray of chaos that left the living room in a mess.

What happened next was fuzzy; she didn't have much control over her mental facilities at the time but apparently, she and her sisters stormed the entire house, turning over tables and chairs, knocking down pictures and breaking windows. All of it done in the name of finding more chocolate to satiate their wild, animalistic cravings. To make matters worse, not only did she have to clean up after the mess that they made, a process that would take at least several days WITH eight sisters (Lily was exempt from clean-up duty on accounts of being a baby, even if she was arguably as big of a culprit as her sisters were) helping her, she had learned from her parents that during the three-hour eradication of the house, Bobby had come over to see Lori, presumably to have a romantic evening out on the town like they always on Valentine's Day, but because of the wanton destruction that took place, he got spooked and booked it for the hills.

And now…now she'd have to deal with Clyde McBride and his stupid Valentine's Day gift? Wasn't that death trap of a bracelet enough torment for her? What was next, a bouquet of exploding daises? A fish tank full of piranhas that could breathe and walk on dry land? Perfume with a scent that drove wild, rabid dogs to hunt and maim whomever had the misfortune of being marinated in it?

Sighing distressingly, Lori knew that there was only one way to find out and that was by facing the music, lest she have her phone privileges taken away from her.

Weaving past Luna, who was on her knees, cleaning up smears of tomato paste(at least Lori  _hoped_  that was tomato paste and not a more morbid red, liquid substitute) off the hallway carpet and Lola, who was on Lana's shoulders and trying to get a crooked, framed picture straightened, Lori descended down the stairs in a huff, a prominent scowl on her face as she saw Clyde within her sights, standing just outside the doorway and looking shyly away from her once he noticed her coming.

She didn't take notice of the white shroud, that he had under his arm, until she made it down the last step. Upon doing so, she realized that said white shroud was clearly covering something, possibly the gift that Clyde had in store for her.

A small swell of relief, amidst her frustration and irritation, washed over her at the revelation.

' _Okay, so it's_ _not_ _another macaroni bracelet. At least that's something, I guess.'_

Within seconds, she was standing before her bothersome admirer, her scowl as big as ever and her arms crossed. ' _Let's get this over with.'_

* * *

Thinking about Lori, seeing Lori, talking to Lori(if he was privileged enough to do so) was always a calming, therapeutic experience for Clyde but as he timidly looked up at Lori's rigid frown and her smoldering eyes burning right through him, he couldn't remember a time where he felt more terrified.

He supposed that in the end, that this was part of the reason why he loved Lori; she always knew how to evoke the most extreme of emotions within him.

"H-hey, Lori," Clyde greeted with a shaky smile.

He would've followed up with a compliment on how nice she looked but his words couldn't escape his dry throat.

Clyde coughed in an attempt to clear his throat up and calm his racing nerves before continuing.

"So, uh, I-I know it's r-really late and all but-"

"Look, whatever it is that you want to give me, just give it to me already and go home. I literally have a million better things to do than stand out here all night with  _you_."

Clyde winced. He always knew that Lori often used the word "literally" incorrectly, a cute quirk if anyone cared for his opinion on the subject, but one good look at her glowering face and hostile body language was all it took for him to believe that she truly  _did_  have a million better things to do than entertain the notion that he hadn't royally screwed up with his Valentine's Day gift.

And that  _hurt_.

Evidently, his silence only served to kindle her temper further, if her impatient, throaty growl was any indication.

"Well? Are you just gonna stand there or am I gonna have to-"

Without thinking, Clyde took a hold of his painting in both hands and pushed it forward until it was within Lori's reach. He was trembling now and looking down at the floor, not ready to take in her imminent furious reaction through his eyes.

He flinched when he felt Lori snatch it out of his hands, both at the suddenness of the action and by the fact that her fingertips briefly brushed against his own in the process.

"What's this?" he heard Lori ask churlishly.

Before he could attempt to come with the proper answer, his thundering heart picked up speed when he noticed his white sheet fluttering slowly to the ground, giving away that Lori unveiled his gift.

"I painted it myself," Clyde replied quickly, hating the dead silence that Lori gives him instead of a concrete response in… _any_  direction. If he dreaded the thought of seeing Lori turn her nose up at his painting, waiting in anticipation for her to respond made him feel like he was walking barefoot on needles.

"Do you…do you like it?" he asked quietly, his eyes still trained on the welcome mat underneath his feet.

"It's…"

Clyde's fists tighten and his teeth clamp down. This was it. She was sure to deride him for being such a brainless fool for even thinking that this was a good idea. He was sure of it. There was no way that she would-

"It's, uh, fine, I guess. I've seen better but this isn't bad."

Oh. Well, that was a surprise, in more ways than one, really. Clyde either predicted an unfavorable reaction, full of disparaging insults, or the more unlikely outcome in the form of Lori outpouring her gratitude upon him like torrential downpour.

While neutral wasn't in the cards for him, he knew that he had to take what didn't include an unforgiving tongue laughing and/or physical retaliation.

And yet, he still can't believe his ears. He had to know for sure, that he  _wasn't_  a colossal screw-up for a change.

"So, you don't…hate it?" Clyde questioned while slowly looking up at Lori.

He's unperturbed when Lori rolls her eyes at his naïve question.

"I _just_ said it's fine, Clyde," Lori responded listlessly.

"Oh. Okay."

With nothing more in mind to say, Clyde turned his back on Lori, ready to head home. Despite knowing that he should count himself blessed for not being the bane of her Valentine's Day, he still couldn't help but feel rather underwhelmed. Her lukewarm, almost indifferent response didn't sit all that well with him the more he thought about it. He couldn't say it was unfair since he knew that Lori owed him absolutely nothing but still…would it have killed her to smile at him? Just a little bit? If she was going to accept his gift, he had hoped that she would at least give him that much.

"Well, I guess I'll, um, see you later, Lor-"

A sudden blanket of warmth envelops him from behind and Clyde does everything he can not to faint from what he knows just happened. He looks down and sure enough, he finds Lori's arms wrapped around his waist. The softness of her front pressing against his back, along with the tiny wisps of breath escaping her mouth, that's centimeters away from his ear, do nothing but make him feel like ice cream melting away under the heat of the Sun.

"This is  _only_  because you got me a half-decent Valentine's Day gift for a change, okay? Don't get the wrong idea," Lori whispered sternly.

He holds back the urge to nod, not wanting to accidentally bump the back of his head against her face. Despite her statement leaving no room for the possibility of her returning his feelings, at this moment, Clyde couldn't care less.

He got a hug from Lori Loud! That's at least thirty times better than a smile in his book.

Almost as quickly as it came, Lori releases him from her loose hug and gets up from her kneeling position to brush off specks of debris from her knees.

"Alright, that's enough. Five seconds longer and I'd officially be cheating on Bobby," Lori said. "Now, go home. It's late enough as it is, and I don't want your parents to worry about you."

This time, Clyde nods and shakily makes his down the stairs, still reeling from the embrace this his goddess graciously afforded him.

After everything that just took place, there was but one thing that Clyde knew that he had to do now; take up sculpting classes in preparation for the marble statue he was gonna make for Lori next year!

* * *

Lori watches as Clyde disappears into the night, thanking the heavens that he's finally gone.

She looks down at the painting she leaned against the doorway, before she hugged him, and sighed wearily.

Leave it to Clyde McBride to put her on the spot…again. She almost wished that he hadn't have gone out of his way to get her something so wonderful. At least with something lame or hazardous, she could do what was supposed to be  _right_ ; keeping her distance and telling him off for pursuing love that was never meant to be and that he was a fool for thinking that his dumb trinkets and tricks would change her opinion of him.

But what was she supposed to do when he not only avoided messing up on an epic level but exceeded expectations like he had done just now?

Compliment him? Give him the time of day with her gratitude? That wasn't an option that she could afford to lean on and despite her resolve to keep him at arm's length, she couldn't resist her conscience screaming out to her to give him some form of compensation for all his hard work, hence the hug.

' _And now that I've given him that little inch, he'll take at least ten miles.'_

Not wanting to think about her dilemma outside of the comfort of her bedroom any further, Lori snatched up the painting under her arm, closed the front door, and marched up the stairs, ignoring the greeting that Luna gave her once they passed each other. Upon entering her room(which was much easier than normal considering that the door was literally off its hinges, Lori gingerly placed the painting down on her bed face-down.

She followed suit, flopping on the bed softly and landing face-first on one of her pillows. Despite her best efforts to keep her conscience from chewing her out, she couldn't help but feel like such a horrible person for the way she approached Clyde.

Even now, her fabricated words of indifference and neutral appreciation, burned in the back of her throat, almost as if she had just downed an entire cauldron's worth of poison.

' _It's just fine?_ ' Lori scoffed at her recited, shallow words of praisel. ' _Try the best Valentine's Day gift you ever got.'_

And yet, despite her mental scolding of herself, deep down, Lori knew that she would thank herself tomorrow. It needed to be done. It  _had_  to be done.

Out of all the times that Clyde made her uneasy and tense, times like these, where he'd come off as less of a creepy, deluded stalker and more of an attentive, competent suitor, made her feel the worst. At least with the former, she could chew him out and hope that he finally got the message that she and Clyde would never be an item no matter how hard he tried.

But with gestures like this painting, Clyde would show his sense of dedication and diligence for a cause he thought was worth fighting for. When Clyde stood by Lincoln and supported her brother's plans without the slightest complaint or objection, Clyde would display his loyalty and determination.

Dedication. Diligence. Loyalty. Determination.

Those were traits and attitudes that Lori found admirable in a man and she knew that any self-respecting woman would feel the same way. What made her frustrated was the fact that Clyde would waste all that potential on her, when she knew that they would never be any more than friends, and it drove her up the wall more than his generally vexing, lovesick antics ever could. If only he were into someone else; then he wouldn't have to waste his time.

With the last bit of strength that her downtrodden disposition hasn't drained out of her like sweat through her pores, Lori lethargically turns to her side and grabs the side of the painting, flipping it on its side until she holds it in place, her portrait now showing itself to her in all its beautiful glory.

Lori sighed, feeling sorry for Clyde because after everything he went through to do this for her, in the end, what he aimed for would be for nothing.

In the end, they would be nothing more than friends.

In the end, he would never find the happiness he wanted with her.

In the end, he had made her something that was ultimately a waste of time; such a beautiful waste of time.


End file.
